Untitled Document, and other short stories
by Coutelier
Summary: From serious studies of characters, to the silly and absurd. Characters blunder in and out of situations, Imoen's fear of cats, agitated honey bees and more besides!
1. Untitled

_And we start with a story that's moderately silly, as Tarant decides to help Aerie to help himself. I couldn't come up with a decent title though._**  
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**Untitled Document**

It was the night before firstday, and all through the house, not a creature was stirring… apart from Aerie, but she wasn't stirring much. She should have gone to bed hours ago but instead found herself sat in small candlelit corner of the room completely absorbed in a novel about a man who climbed down chimneys and stole children's toys and if they saw him he would leave a sack of coal and burn their house down. It was pretty frightening, but she guessed she must really enjoy being scared all the time because she just kept turning the pages.

The only other person up at this time was Tarant, and normally he had the study to himself. Not that he really read much. Mostly he sat in the big armchair assuring himself that the world was an unkind and miserable place. He figured if you just accepted that from the start then there was no way anything could disappoint you. But he found that lots of things still did disappoint him and so that philosophy fell apart… no, it couldn't be the philosophy because that had always worked. He decided to blame Aerie for it because… well, there was no point in making excuses for it; he was blaming her because she was there and she wasn't before so it made sense.

"What are you doing?" The half elf asked. Neither of them had said a word for several hours and it took a few seconds for his to register with Aerie who was held in an almost trance like state by the words in front of her. Slightly startled, she looked up from the book she'd been reading at him, then back to the book, then back to him.

"Um… I-I'm reading… sir," as usual her stuttered words were barely audible.

"Well do you have to do that here? Now?" Tarant huffed. "Can't you see I'm busy?"

"Oh… I-I am sorry sir. I didn't realise you were busy… for the last four hours it didn't look like you were doing anything," Aerie shrugged.

"Well… obviously I can't do anything with you here distracting me all the time. But otherwise there's lots of stuff I'd be getting on with."

"Uh… like what sir?"

"I don't need to tell you everything," especially since there was nothing really to tell.

"If you wanted me to leave you only needed to ask… i-it was just I couldn't read upstairs because Imoen snores…"

"I don't need to hear about your problems either," he waved a hand dismissively. "I've got enough of my own."

"I'm sorry to hear that. If you ever need any help, or, to talk to someone…"

"Nenenene," he waved again. Aerie bowed her head then walked out of the room. Which was good. Now he could get on with all the very important work he was doing. Like he could get on with that book he'd been writing, which he hadn't got very far with since Aerie kept distracting him. Now he immediately turned to the desk and placed the tip of his quill against the blank parchment.

After five minutes, it was still blank parchment so obviously he needed to sit back and think of some ideas. An hour passed. Still blank. Somehow he knew that was all Aerie's fault. She'd come down and distracted him with all her minding her own business in the corner and now he couldn't concentrate because of her.

Right now she'll have gone back to the room she shared with Imoen. If his sister had been woken up they'd stay up for a while so that Imoen could tell stories and bad jokes, and Aerie would smile sweetly and nod, pretending it was funny. She never really smiled, because no one in this world was ever really happy. At least he'd always pretended, years ago, when Imoen used to tell all her bad jokes to him…

Stupid Aerie. Stupid blonde Aerie. He didn't understand why everybody liked her anyway. Jaheira was always tough with the elf, but really it was because she thought Aerie had heaps of potential. Even if she didn't say anything, you could always see a little pride in the druids eyes on the rare occasion Aerie actually did something right. Then Valygar, who was supposed to hate magic users, made an exception in her case… Minsc was just too stupid to know any better.

Didn't they all see how annoying she was? After all, she was just here trying to burden him with all of her problems…

Was she?

Yes she was.

And the only reason she wouldn't of was because she didn't think anyone not Avariel could understand what it was like to lose her wings and have to adapt to a way of life nature hadn't intended for her, suppressing all her instincts… well he wasn't even going to try to understand all that and he'd made it clear to her before. Wings, flying… he wasn't interested in things that were over his head. She just had to see that life wasn't fair and he would do everything possible to make sure it stayed that way.

Something needed to be done about her. He couldn't kill her unfortunately. She may have been irritating but she wasn't really harming anyone… at least that's what Imoen and the others would all think. Luckily there might be another solution…

Ascending the staircase, he was pleased to find that Edwin had risen early and was preparing spells and potions for the day.

"Hmmm, yes," the Red Wizard yawned soon after Tarant had told him what he wanted. "It is powerful magic, claiming it can remove everything from a person's personality that prevents them from reaching their full potential (naturally I wasn't going to use this on myself since I am already perfect in every way)."

"Right," Tarant declined to comment. "So, you could turn even a totally wet blanket like Aerie into a worthwhile adventurer?"

"The spell requires considerable skill. Luckily you are talking you are talking to the man who won the Thayvian Junior Spellcasters champion."

"Was that the boy you used to keep locked in the attic?"

"Yes… I mean no! It was me of course! (Ignorant primate. I wonder if I should have fed the boy more often though…)"

"Can you do the spell or not?"

"Of course," Edwin straightened his back; standing tall and proud as he thoughtfully stroked his beard. "Which one is Aerie again?"

"The annoying one."

"They're all annoying… I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific."

"Elf… long hair… blonde?" Tarant said, but Edwin scrunched up his face, at least what could be seen of it beneath his beard. Clearly nothing was ringing a bell. "Remember when you took all that money from a temple of Ilmater even though you weren't actually suffering, and then those knights showed up wanting to make you suffer? She was the one who hid you from them, and then talked Jaheira and everyone else into not killing you and going to the priests for a compromise, remember?"

"Still not picturing her…"

"You must remember that. Jaheira summoned about three cave bears to tear you to pieces, but Aerie stood in front of you and said that killing wouldn't solve anything…"

"Nope…"

"She said your new robes made you look handsome."

"Oh, her!" Edwin said at last. "(She was right of course. Although Edwin could wear a coat made of rat skins and still be handsome). Why do you want the magic used on her? I always find her very easy to ignore."

"Clearly," the half-elf sighed, "but she came into the study and started whining about all kinds of stuff." Okay, so that… that was a lie in fact. He was afraid the truth would sound a bit pathetic, at least to people who didn't understand all the angst he suffered since he had recently become a writer.

"Of course… it has nothing to do with the fact that your first novel was turned down."

"Absolutely not! Mister 'I'm an unimaginative berk' Wright clearly has no appreciation of what art is. Well you know what he can do?"

"He can get novels published?"

"No… well, yeah he can do that as well. But he'll only publish them if they're exactly the same as 'Gobsmacker and The Big Bags of Money.'"

"The one about the Orc who goes to a wizard's school?" Edwin slowly shook his head. "Hated it… completely unrealistic. And that stupid wizards sport… the rules just didn't make any sense! The whole thing was ridiculous... I get angry just thinking about it."

"Right, so he can take his demographs and shove them up his tight arse. Don't worry, I'll find a publisher who is not afraid to take risks on new talent. Speaking of shoving things up people's arses though," Tarant meaningfully picked up a loaf of dwarven bread Edwin used as a paper weight. "Are you going to do what I want or not?"

"Er… yes, of course," Edwin gave him a curious and almost suspicious glance. For some reason Tarant got the impression the wizard wasn't as enthusiastic about this as the half elf would have expected. "It needs to be done while she's still sleeping… fetch the Imps Eyes!" Edwin said with a grand gesture. Tarant looked around, but got lost in all the scrolls and jars Edwin had spread out all over the place. Edwin shook his head and muttered something.

"It's on the middle shelf next to the salt."

* * *

When morning came the deed was done. Tarant sat by the breakfast table waiting to see the results, but it was Imoen who came down first. Her hair was a mess and she looked exhausted.

"Nine forty five," Tarant had recently checked the time on the sun dial outside. "I never expect to see you until at least one."

"It's Aerie," the red head said and slumped into a chair. The look on her face suggested she thought she was still dreaming, or she hoped she was anyway. "Last night she was all quiet and nice as usual… she asked me if I was warm enough and offered to let me use her blanket. But now it's like something weird has gotten into her head. She woke up me up two hours ago and told me to get and make my bed… when I didn't do it she twisted my arm! She actually twisted my arm! Then she made me scrub all the floors…"

"Imoen!" Aerie called out from the door. She wasn't hunched over bowing her head to everyone anymore. Her back was straight and she looked confident. For the first time Tarant noticed how pretty she actually was. "Why are you dawdling?!"

"I'm hungry!" The red head wailed.

"The sooner you've done all your chores the sooner you can eat. After we've done our exercises of course… I think you're starting to get flabby."

"Winthrop never made me work this hard," Immy sulked.

"Clearly he was too soft on you. There are going to be some changes made around here… I'm fed up of working until I'm ready to drop only to be everyone's whipping girl later. Now get going!" Aerie raised a club over her head eliciting a high pitched 'eek' from Imoen.

"Y-yes ma'am!" The red head blurted and ran outside.

"Honestly," the Avariel sighed, "No one ever slacked off in the circus. It was none stop working from the early morning to late at night. And what about you?" Suddenly her blue eyes swivelled onto Tarant. "I'm sure there are things you could be doing?"

"I'm doing them," he said.

"Doing what? 'Stuff?'" She leant over a bit so that she could look him in the eyes. "I think you're lying."

"Hmm… well I often do, I can't deny that."

"Like I said… things are going to change," she sneered and marched outside, presumably to make sure Imoen was still working hard.

Well… it was an improvement, right? A more confident Aerie would be far more useful to have around. And the way she was, all quiet and subdued… nice people never get anywhere in life. They get picked on and exploited by people who can see they'll be easy targets. Domineering bitches generally get everything they ask for. So he'd done her a favour, right?

A little while later, she pushed Imoen back through the door and planted her on a chair. The Avariel then grabbed a plate and threw it on the table in front of the red head.

"This is my breakfast?" Imoen stared blankly at the plate. For some reason she reason she wasn't expecting it to stare blankly back. "It's an empty plate…"

"Which is more than I ever got;" the Avariel scoffed, "Now you'll take your plate with nothing on it and be grateful for it."

"How can I get through the day on an empty plate?!"

"Well that's easy, you sit on it," Aerie said dryly. "Like I said, you've become too soft and flabby. Now you'd better join me in the sparring room in ten minutes… you do not want me to come and find you." The Avariel glared before marching meaningfully up the stairs.

"That's it… finally it's all gotten to her and she's lost it," Imoen whined, "It's like she's acting like her old ringmaster or something…"

"There's a lot of anger inside her. It was bound to catch up eventually," Tarant said innocently, but he turned away slightly, opening a small book he'd never been interested in reading before. Imoen noticed.

"You know something, don't you?" She said.

"What are you talking about?"

"Hey, look in me in the eye! That kind of change doesn't just happen over night," Tarant just turned away some more, but Imoen continued reading his body language. "You did something, didn't you? You and Edwin… You got mad at Aerie for some reason… or most probably no reason knowing you… so you went to Edwin and had him cast a spell to remove everything from her personality that held her back… and you talked about Gobsmacker… you pooh heads!" She was really, really good.

"Look," he threw the book away since he didn't like it anyway, "You should all be thanking me. If you were really her friend you'd be glad she's become more confident and sure of her self. Plus she won't bother anyone with her whining anymore."

"Don't pretend you know what it's like to be anyone's friend!" Imoen snapped. "You've messed her up… you can't just magic away people's problems! They need to work through them on their own. They might need help sometimes, but… ugh, you are just such a berk. Jaheira's going to blow when she gets back too."

"Now why would she care?"

"Don't you get it? No one is going to thank you for what you've done. They're going to think 'if he'll do this to her because she annoys him once, how longs it gonna be before he does that to me too?' And I'm definitely getting out of here before you mess with my head any more than you have already."

"What does that mean?"

"I mean that's it! I've had it! I'm out of here! Gone!"

"You can't go," Tarant said quietly. Even after all these years he wasn't used to Imoen being angry and he found it disturbing. Immy shook her head sadly.

"You changed Bro. You used to be kind and nice, but then for some reason you started being more distant. I stuck with you because I thought the good little boy was still in there somewhere. But you've just proven there's nothing in there anymore but a spiteful, selfish little berk. So I'm going," she headed towards the front door.

"You won't last five minutes without me!" Tarant hissed after her.

"See ya," Imoen made a rude hand gesture, and then… she was gone.

Well that was fine. It was what he wanted anyway. He wanted people to leave him alone. Anyway… she'll be back.

Five minutes passed and she wasn't back. Tarant poured out some spirits and rolled himself a smoking stick. What if she never came back? He told himself that he didn't really care… it would just be a bit strange because Imoen had always been there. But she needed to grow up. She couldn't go around acting like they were still children. Things were different. Mostly he was different…

Many smoking sticks and glasses of spirits later, and Tarant's hand was rubbing against his forehead as if trying to rub the bad thoughts out of his brain. Yeah, he'd had friends before. But all they did was betray you and use you. They weren't good for anything. He was better off without friends like Imoen or Aerie. He liked things being quiet like they were now. Really quiet.

Gods he was lonely.

"I don't believe it," Aerie stood by the door and tutted, "What a mess. And I suppose you expect me to clean it up… where is Imoen?"

"She… she's gone," Tarant managed to pick his head up off the table. "Apparently I did something to make her angry so she just upped and left… didn't even stop to get her things."

"Great… that's just great. I can't spar with myself," Aerie sighed. Then a thought struck. "Actually I can… of course I can."

"You know, I think I was actually happy once," Tarant mumbled, ignoring her, "Before Gorion dies. I can't even remember what it was like now though…"

"Yes, well, these are all your problems. I have to prepare the simulacrum…"

"What?" Suddenly very confused, Tarant grabbed her arm before she could walk out too. "Aerie, I'm upset. I want to talk to someone…"

"I have things to do."

"You can spare a few minutes! You don't even have to say anything. Just sit down and listen like you usually do."

"I'm sorry, but I don't think you should put off till tomorrow what you can do right now. You'll just have to work things out your own."

She pulled his hand off and left. It was only now he fully realised that he had made a huge mistake. Probably the biggest he had ever made in his life. Well, second biggest. There was that time he bought spiky armour off a street merchant only to find the spikes were on the inside.

* * *

"Don't hit my face!" Edwin covered up after Tarant had kicked down his door.

"Why did you lock the door?" The half elf grabbed the wizards robe by the collar, twisting it so that Edwin stood on his toes. "Immy was right, wasn't she? You're afraid I'll try to change you with magic?"

"Well, let's face it; the girl hadn't really done anything to you. She hadn't done anything to anyone, so that hardly bodes well for me now, does it? I have to protect my perfect brain!"

Tarant sneered, and then let him go.

"You don't need to worry," he said, "I've seen the error I made. We… we not to get the old miserable Aerie back. Then maybe she can talk to Imoen for me and everything will back to the way it was and none of us will be any wiser. Can you do it?"

"Well…"

"Well? Well?! I don't want to hear well! I want to hear 'yes sir, me and my perfect brain will be on it at once sir. Fix it all up for you in a jiffy, sir.'"

"Do not push it," the wizard warned, "I may be cursed, but I could still take you down with me. Of course me and my perfect brain can handle it. I will just need some things from my laboratory."

By the time they got there, the door was already open. Inside, Aerie was sat upon Edwin's Thinking Throne.

"Did you think I wouldn't know what you two had done?" She said as she rose. "I'm the most powerful witch in all these lands… if not the entire world. And now you want to change me back to the way I was, correct?"

"The spell didn't work the way it was supposed to. It was supposed to make you forget all your problems, not make you mean," Tarant shrugged apologetically.

"Of course… you want the old me back because she was easy for you to make fun of. Easy for you to push around because she would just stand there and take it, then go and cry by herself later. Well I'm here to tell you that I've no interest in being that person any more. I'm not going to take your crap."

"But… she's you. Yeah, she could be annoying, but most of time she was quiet and didn't bother anyone. And kind and nice I guess… and, it seems, everyone liked her a lot better than what you've become now."

"But I do! For the first time in my life I'm sure of my self and confident. And if you try to take that away, I will harm you."

"What a foolish girl," Edwin rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, Aerie, I don't want to have to hurt you so just get out of the way okay?" Tarant moved to gently pull her aside.

In response, Aerie called out a single word which was followed by a flash which threw the two men against the wall. The next syllable she uttered granted her super natural speed and agility as well as strength from her god. Before Edwin could utter any spells in response, her staff had sent him flying again and for him it wasn't as much fun as it was to an Avariel.

Tarant went after her with his sword, but with her magical speed he just couldn't catch her.

"Now, I'm sure the spell wasn't supposed to do any of this!" He called to Edwin who was already retreating towards the door.

"Well magic is hardly an exact science!" The wizard shouted back. It was another point to Imoen, Tarant realised. Luckily she wasn't here to do the dance she always did.

Aerie managed to slip her hand through the half-elf's guard, sending a jolt of electricity into his chest. When she took it away he was launched backwards and slumped against the wall. He was also sure Edwin's spell hadn't increased the Avariel's power, so for a long time they'd all underestimated Aerie's abilities. What he wasn't sure of was if the spell had altered her so much that she'd try to kill him… fortunately he never found out. One second the Avariel was advancing on him, the next her eyes rolled backwards and she slumped to the ground.

"Ha!" Tarant said as his eyes went wide like a little boys. "I knew you wouldn't last long on your own… come crawling back have you?"

"It's got nothing to do with you, bufflehead. I just couldn't leave my best friend like this. Now we'd better fix this mess before anyone else finds out about it, okay?"

"Well… I suppose you might be able to help Immy. Just try not to get in my way or bother me too much." The shock wore off and Tarant wasn't badly hurt at all, so he bounced to his feet.

"No hug? Go on, I know you want one…"

"Touch me and I'll tear your head off, hollow out the skull and use you as a lantern, got it?"

* * *

With Imoen's help they were able to undo the effects of Edwin's spell on Aerie. By evening she was unhappy again, but she also felt a little guilty about how she'd behaved even if it was under the influence of magic.

"W-would you like another cushion, sir?" The elf stammered to Tarant, now resting in a big armchair.

"No, thank you," he yawned. "You could bring in some more firewood."

"Of course sir."

"I could do with a drink," Edwin said from the other chair, "but do be quick about it girl. I don't want next years vintage."

"A-at once sir…" the Avariel bowed and scurried away to do those chores.

"Haven't you two learnt anything today?" Imoen sighed.

"That you should appreciate what you've got?" Edwin offered.

"Do unto others?" Tarant suggested.

"Maybe about making time for people and not being such gits," Immy shook her head. The two men looked at each other with puzzled expressions.

By the time Jaheira got back no one was any wiser.


	2. The Cat's Eyes

_And this one is very silly...__Imoen explains why she has her terrible fear of cats..._**  
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**The Cat's Eyes**

Imoen was woken by the flapping of window shutters as the morning breeze drafted in. She usually shared a room with Aerie, who liked to leave the windows open because of her claustrophobia. It had been a warm night, so Imoen had no problem.

The rogue redheaded mage yawned and stretched under the blankets. She really didn't want to get up. Maybe she would just send a note to Tarant telling him she had 'woman's problems'. That was a little trick she'd learnt from Jaelle. No man would ever dare to question it if you told them you had 'woman's problems', as it just causes them to freak.

But, she could hear the days activity starting downstairs as the regulars filled the Inn. She could hear the clink of gold and… who knows what other bright and shiny trinkets, and she knew she would have a full days work ahead of her. Relieving those poor people of all that excess weight they had to carry around. Oh, but, she could lie on for a few more minutes. Living the adventurer's lifestyle it wasn't often she got to sleep in such a warm and comfortable bed.

There was movement in the room. Very odd. She was sure Aerie hadn't woken up yet. Well, it had to be the breeze. She might have to get up after all just to close the window. The redhead rolled on her side and allowed her eyes to flicker open. There were… paws… silverish fur… green eyes… whiskers, a tail, pointed ears…

"_Meow?_" The cat said.

"AH!" Imoen screamed and somersaulted out of her bed and over Aerie's. "Aerie! Aerie! Wake up you… wake up!" She cried out desperately.

"Hmm?" The avariel turned herself over, pulling the blankets up over her head.

"Hey!" Imoen pulled the blankets away, exposing the blonde elf in her night robe. "Wake up you… you thatch-roofed little… elf…" She was in such a panicked state she couldn't even string together a poignant insult.

"But, Momma… I don't have to go to school today…" Aerie then sat up groggily and rubbed the dust from her eyes. "Er… I-Imoen?" She said, not hiding her disappointment. "Did… did you need something?"

"Yes. I need you to get rid of that cat!"

"Huh… cat?" The avariel wasn't fully awake yet.

"Yes, look, there's a cat in the room!"

Aerie looked at the creature her friend was yelling about. Imoen's scream had caused it to back into a corner where it stood with it's straight on it's arched back.

"_Meow?_" It said.

"Y-yes… a cat… must have… cr-crept in through the window…" the elf yawned.

"Thankyou," Imoen looked annoyed. "I had figured that much out on my own."

"Wha…what did you need me for again?"

"_Getridofit! Getridofit!_" Imoen screeched and waved her hands desperately, like a frightened schoolgirl.

"Why? I-it's not hurting anyone. It… it's probably just hungry."

"So? Let it go and kill a mouse or something… look, I just don't like cats, okay? Not since… look, there isn't time to go into that right now, just get rid of that thing!"

"How?"

"What?!"

"How do you want me to get of it?"

"I don't know. You must have some idea what to do with them… I mean, you had cats in the circus right?"

"Er, y-yes, but… they were a lot bigger than this one," Aerie rested her head on her palm for a few seconds, apparently deep in thought. "Oh! I… I know what to do."

"Yes?" Imoen was getting the idea that Aerie was actually stalling.

"If… if there's one thing I've learned in the circus about cats, it's that they're very afraid of chairs. Do… do you have a chair?"

"That's just a very silly joke, isn't it?" Indeed, the little avariel could hardly suppress her giggles. Steam hissed from Imoen's ears. "This is no laughing matter!" The redhead shouted. "I have a genuine phobia! And I'll have thought you, of all people, would be a little more sensitive about something like that. Don't you dare start using this as an excuse to make fun of me! Believe me, I have plenty on you!" She shook her finger pointedly.

"I get scared," Aerie sighed. "But not… not paralyzed-scared like you obviously are. You… you're right though. It's wrong of me to make fun. I-I'm sorry," the elf regained control of herself. "But… I don't understand. There are cats all over the city. I've… I've never seen you react like this."

"I'm okay when they're outside," Imoen sighed as well. "I just don't like being in a room with them. It's… an incident that goes back to my childhood. Now… will you please, just pick up that cat and put it back outside the window. I'm sure it can find it's own way back down from there."

"Al-alright," Aerie picked herself up off the bed, catching a glimpse of herself in her recently polished small shield. For some reason, she thought her hair looked like a straw thatched-roof. She guessed it always did in the mornings.

The cat was still arched in the corner, glancing nervously between the two looming figures. When Aerie crouched down and reached for it, the cat screeched and slashed out, causing the elf to recoil just slightly. It had left a deep mark on the back of her hand.

"You see that!" Imoen wailed. "They're horrible, evil creatures! I don't understand how anyone can like them. Hurry up and get rid of it!"

"It's… it's just because you're scaring it," said Aerie.

"I'm scaring _it? Hello!?_ I'm not the one who has claws she can unsheathe whenever she feels like hurting someone. Are you alright?"

"It's just a scratch," Aerie assured her friend. "I'm fine, really. You know… I-I used to get scratched all the time in the circus. And b-bitten… and kicked."

"That's why you're the only one qualified to this job. I really don't know anything about animals."

"Animals?" Aerie asked. "Oh, yes… Well… they could be pretty rough too, I guess."

"Trouble is," Imoen started to observe. "I don't actually know that you are joking. Just concentrate on that cat."

The avariel was grinning facetiously, but did as her friend asked. This time, she didn't bother being cautious. She just quickly grabbed it by the scruff of the neck and lifted the cat from the ground. It struggled viciously for a few moments before finally the little creature punched itself out and came to rest in her arms. Then, still grinning facetiously, Aerie glared at Imoen.

"W-what?" A knot suddenly formed in the redheads stomach. "What are thinking of doing. Just… no! No… d-don't bring that thing over here! Stay away!" Her grey eyes went wider than the elf's wide blue orbs as the rogue-mage somehow managed to climb backwards up the dresser.

"I'm forced to face my fears all the time. I haven't any choice," Aerie explained. "Facing yours might do you some good. Look," she held the cat out at arms length.

"_Meow?_" It whined piteously. But Imoen literally was paralyzed. She tried desperately to scream, but, terror took the sound before she made it.

"It's just a little cat," Aerie tried reassuring her. "Not… not at all like the lions and tigers I had to feed and clean up after every day. This little thing can't hurt you," Imoen's bulging eyes went to the gash on Aerie's hand. "Well, it… it can't hurt you much."

"G-get rid of it…" Imoen finally gained enough composure to speak. Or, more accurately, to hiss between her gritted teeth.

"Won't you even try?" The avariel sounded very let down. "You… you don't have to hold it. Just come and stroke it's back."

"No!" The redhead tried sounding angry, but her fear was still very evident. "I've told you to get rid of it!"

"Fine," again today, Aerie did nothing to hide her disappointment. "But… I-I want something from you."

"Just get rid of it Aerie, or… I'll show _everyone_ the cartoons you drew of them. Huh? How would you like that?"

Imoen glared. Aerie, knowing it was very rare she had the opportunity to demand anything from someone, glared back. It became a contest of wills. And, despite outward appearances, it was the little blonde elf's that was by far the stronger.

"Fine," the rogue-mage said, giving in. "What do you want?"

"Well… it's two things really. First, I-I want to know where you hid my ring of protection."

"The green one? But you never wear it. You have much better rings now."

"It… was a gift from my uncle. So… please? I'd really like to have it back."

"Oh… I didn't know it was important to you. I'm sorry. You… you'll find it at the bottom of the bag Jaheira keeps all her herbs and stuff in. Now hurry up, what else?"

"I… I just want to tell me why it is you're so afraid of cats."

"That's all?" Clearly it wasn't as bad as Imoen had thought it might be. Really, Aerie could have asked for anything. She could have asked for Imoen to let her ride around on the redhead's back all day and her wish would have been granted. "Alright, I'll tell you. But what I say must never leave this room… and first, you have to get rid of that darn cat!"

The avariel coddled the cat one last time before finally heading to the window. Half-way there, another thought struck her and she turned back to Imoen.

"Um… could you let…"

"No."

Fair enough. It was a pretty silly idea anyway. Aerie gently placed the cat out on the ledge where it instantly shot off, disappearing into the not-very-welcoming streets of Athkatla. Imoen climbed off the dresser and breathed a heavy, long sigh of relief.

Moments later, the two young women were sat opposite each-other on their beds, as Imoen wasn't one who broke promises. Okay, she was, but she usually made exceptions in her best friend's case. She started to tell of the childhood incident that had left her permanently scarred.

"You see, it all began when we were on that quest to find the final resting place of that dragon… you know, Fir-grig… something. You remember?"

"W-well, yes," Aerie answered, becoming just a little. "But… that wasn't your childhood. It… was a few months ago."

"Huh?" Imoen looked up as she sat cross-legged, twiddling her hair and sucking her thumb.

"Oh… er, n-nothing. Go on."

"Anyway, it was another one of those cold, dank dungeons, and we were all waiting outside…"

* * *

"Where is Jaelle?" Tarant, Imoen's half-elven older half-brother marched up and down frustratedly. They'd been waiting by the entrance to this cold, dank dungeon for almost ten minutes, and Tarant was not well-known for his patience. About two minutes later, a cube shaped machine about the size of a fist clicked and clogged it's way through the undergrowth and marched up to Tarant's foot. He bent down and snatched a small parchment from the modron-replica's tiny arm.

"She's sent us a note," Tarant informed the party.

"Well, what's it say?" Imoen asked, shivering in the cold.

"It says, 'I would really love to be crawling through a cold and dank dungeon with you all today, but afraid I can't because I am experiencing… woman's problems'. _What? _What in the hells does that mean?" Tarant looked wearily to the three remaining women in his party. "Actually, forget it. I really don't want to know. Anyway, it says 'I look forward to meeting you back at the tavern later'." He sneered and threw away the paper.

"Guess it will just be us then," Imoen chattered.

"Wait!" Tarant ordered the little cube as it was about to head away. "Aerie, do you still have that quill and parchment?"

"Y-yes sir," the avariel affirmed.

"Good. Then I want you to write a reply, as follows: 'Dear Jaelle, May not be possible to meet you later, as I am experiencing man-problems. You know, I quite like the tavern and all, but I'm not entirely sure I can commit to it.' Got that?"

"Um… yes sir," Aerie rolled up the hastily written note and handed it to the machine, which was then on it's way.

"Bloody women," Tarant sneered.

"Where?!" Minsc bolted into the centre of the group, his two-handed sword at the ready.

"What are you doing?" Tarant asked, typically unclear as to whether he was amused or just about ready to kill everyone he could lay his hands on.

"Oh, Minsc has heard stories of these 'women'," the huge bald ranger declared. "They look like normal people, like you or I or Imoen, but they are not! Little people grow inside them, and then, when it is least expected, burst out from their bellies!"

"Er… M-Minsc," Aerie stepped forward. "I-I'm a woman. And… so is Imoen, and so is Jaheira."

"No," Minsc refused to accept that. "You are Minsc's witch!"

"Yes, I am, but… a witch is also a woman."

"You mean… you have a little person growing inside you?"

"Well, no. N-not at the moment. I mean… I-I've never, er…ah…" Aerie looked pleadingly around all her companions, begging them for a way out of this. Rescue came from what was, to her, a most unexpected source.

"Yes Minsc," Tarant intervened. "I find it hard to believe sometimes as well, but Aerie is a woman," The avariel looked at him a little angrily, but was more relieved by the fact that she didn't have to start trying to explain the facts of life to Minsc. At least not for the time-being. "Look closely at her chest. You have to look really close… well, you can't really see anything there at all can you? Look at Jaheira. She has breasts, not like the ones a fat man has, but woman's breasts…"

* * *

"Yes," Aerie interrupted the story. "I-I remember all this. Can… can we just… get to the relevant parts of the story, please?"

"I was setting the scene," Imoen explained. "Introducing the characters. Honestly, do you know nothing about narrative?"

"But… I already know all the characters. And… I-I don't need to know all this. I was there. I think… all… all you're doing is wasting time."

"What about the rest of the audience?"

"I am the entire audience."

"Oh. Right. Okay then."

* * *

After Tarant spent an even more frustrating two hours trying to explain to Minsc what a woman was, and getting punched, on average, once every thirteen minutes by Jaheira, the party went in. Shortly thereafter, they split up in order to cover the dungeon more quickly. Aerie went with Minsc of course, Jaheira with Tarant so that she could keep an eye on him, and Imoen found herself with Valygar.

"Hey," Imoen said, getting all giggly. "Why… hehe… why did mushroom go the party?" She asked. Valygar stared ahead broodily. "You're supposed to say, 'I don't know, why did the mushroom go the party?'" He kept staring ahead broodily. "Heehee… because, he was a _fun_-gi! Get it? Huh? Did you get it?"

Slowly, the head of the dark-skinned man turned downwards towards his companion. "I heard that joke when I was five years old," he said, irritated.

"Wow. That was an entire sentence," Imoen teased. "Just, take it easy there big fella. You should be saving your energy for all that brooding you have to do later."

"We do not know what enemies are waiting for us along these halls. So will you please be quiet," he seemed to make a point of shoving into her slightly as he passed on by.

"Sheez… I was only trying to make conversation," whined Imoen. "Well, I could talk to myself I suppose. Hello Imoen, how are you today. I'm fine, thank you so much for asking. How are you? Why, I'm fine too, thankyou. Hey, what do you think of Valygar person? The broody guy? Well, he's a bit of a waste of space if you ask me… ah!" Imoen screeched as Valygar's head shot out of the darkness, stopping nose to nose with her own. A few seconds ago he had merely been irritated. Now he looked really mad. "I… I'll be quiet now," the redhead whimpered.

"Good." And on that, he disappeared into the darkness again. Imoen followed, but at a very discreet distance.

"I'mtheonlyonewhoeverwantstohaveanyfun," she kept muttering under her breath. "Stoopidknuckleheads…"

After a short time, she came upon a cross-section in the corridor, but no sign of Valygar.

"Awww, come on. Val?" She called, but she was careful not to be too loud. "Which way did you go? This… this isn't funny."

"_Meow?_" Called the cat as it graciously strolled towards the redheaded mage.

"Aw, a little kitty!" Imoen beamed. "How did you get down here? Are you lost? If you are it's no good coming to me because… so am I."

"_Meow?_"

"Well, somehow, don't ask me how, but someone I annoyed Valygar and he's ran off and left me. Don't you just hate it when people are sensitive like that?"

"_Meow?_" It said, as it brushed against her leg.

"What? I should follow you? I guess… well I guess I have no better ideas. Alright."

The cat didn't lead her to Valygar, or back to the entrance, but, it led her to another cat. This cat however was sat in the middle of a large hall, which had probably once been some kind of worship place. The image of the cat was clearly important, or had been important, to whomever had lived here, as it was painted on all the walls. The cat sat in the middle of the hall was twelve foot two and cast in gold. It was the eyes however, that really caught Imoen's attention. They were bright sparkling emeralds. She tried to resist but, it was no use. She just had to have them.

Climbing up was tricky. Gold was a difficult surface to hold on too. But, through perserverance, she managed to shimmy her way up and get into a quite precarious perch just behind it's ears. Very carefully, she pulled her dagger and used it to pry the emeralds from the cat's eyes. They came loose in matter of seconds.

The rogue mage was just thinking this couldn't have been any easier, when she lost her grip and fell to the cat's side, badly twisting her ankle in the process.

"Beeswax!" She yelled as she hopped about on her one good foot. Eventually, she leant back against the statue, still biting down on her own lip. She heaved and sighed through the pain. But, at least she got the jewels. If nothing else, Tarant could sell them for some more money, which would probably cheer him up just a very tiny fraction. Imoen waited for the pain to subside a little before setting off to resume her quest to find Valygar.

And it was then, just as she was walking away, that she heard a noise that sounded like gold scraping against stone, because, in fact, it was gold scraping against stone.

* * *

"Is… is that it?" Aerie asked. "The… cat statue just fell on top of you, and that's why you're afraid of cats?"

"You have got to learn to hide your disappointment," Imoen rolled her eyes. "And no, for your information, that wasn't it. I got trapped under the statue, and that cat who led me there? Well, he went away, then he came back with about a dozen friends. Turned out, they were hungry. They started trying to nibble at me. I was there for three whole hours before Valygar finally showed up to rescue me."

"That… that's horrible," the avariel shed a sympathetic tear. "You… you can keep the ring. I don't want it now."

"No Aerie, you keep your Uncle's ring. I've got lots anyway."

"I just… I can't believe Valygar will have ran off and left you alone like that."

"Imagine how surprised I was? Of course, he claims he was planning to come back after just a few minutes, but ran into problems of his own. Something about a hundred year old golem on the loose… but, who knows? I'm telling you, he doesn't like either of us. You know he's got a thing about magic users, right?"

Aerie did know that, but still she couldn't imagine that the dark-skinned ranger will have left Imoen alone that long intentionally.

"It's horrible," the avariel said again. "But… i-its not what I was expecting."

"What do you mean?"

"I… don't know. I guess for some reason, I was expecting something a little more silly. Perhaps even mystical. But… you were just trapped in a room, with cats. It… must have been horrible."

"Yeah," Imoen scratched her head. "But… did I mention the cats were actually the ghosts of dead cats whose owner used to throw them against walls for fun?"

"Were they?"

"No. They were just ordinary cats as far as I could tell."

Aerie smiled warmly. "Have… have you thought, that maybe the statue d-didn't just topple over on it's own? That maybe, what… whatever god had once been a resident there was punishing you for stealing?"

"Oh, Aerie," Imoen giggled. "You say 'stealing' like it's something that's morally wrong. Like murder or something."

"Um… ste-stealing is wrong," Aerie said, starting to look concerned for her friend. "At least… it-it is according to nearly all the moral theories I know of. It's not as bad as murder, but still… still wrong. You… you're taking things you haven't earned."

"What are you talking about? You don't think I earnt those emeralds? After three hour's stuck with those cats?"

"Well… I guess in that, particular case…"

"In every case, Aerie. Being a thief requires a lot of skill and practice, not to mention risk. So, you see, every time I steal something, I _earn_ it, wouldn't you say?"

"Well… I… I guess… you… you could look at things that way. B-but…"

"Exactly. Now let's hear no more of it. Isn't it time for breakfast? I'm starving."

Imoen quickly shooed Aerie along, the avariel not resisting as she was still pondering how it is she couldn't communicate to Imoen the simple truth that stealing was morally wrong.

"_Meow?"_ Said the cat sat just inside the window.

"Er… Aerie…" the rogue mage called for her friend.

"I-I'm sorry," Aerie said. "I was sure I'd shut it properly."

"_Meow?"_ Said the cat's friend and _"Meow"_ said another.

"H-how many of them are there?" Imoen gulped.

"L-lots," Aerie succinctly answered.

"_Meow?"_

"Th-they must be attracted by s-some kind of smell," Imoen stammered. "A-are you wearing any kind of perfume, or… or something?"

"No," the avariel shook her head.

"_Meow?"_

"M-maybe, because you didn't learn your lesson," Aerie offered. "The… the cat-god is sending them back after you."

"D-don't be silly, Aerie," Imoen giggled very nervously. "That… that can't be it… they… they're getting nearer aren't they… oh gods…"

"_Meow? Meow?" _The chorus of cats went on.

And so it was that Imoen of Candlekeep, daughter of Bhaal, learnt that one should never take that which is not yours. And also, night became day, black became white, water ran uphill, pigs could fly and Edwin became a really, truly nice guy.

**The End.**


	3. Aerie's Day

_A bit more serious now... Aerie describes a typical day adventuring._

**Aerie's Day**

I dread falling asleep. For me, sleep brings with it half-remembered dreams and distant memories. On this night, I dreamt that the sun was gone… snuffed out like a candle; and I found myself walking, alone, through a land of shadows.

All around was darkness and despair. I heard children weeping and women crying for all the things they had lost, but I couldn't find them to comfort them, for they were no more than shadows trapped in a world with no hope, as was I. Until I looked up and saw a light.

It was a far and distant thing at first; a solitary star adrift in an endless black sea. As it slowly drew nearer it appeared to take the shape of a bird; nearer still and I realised that it was no bird, but my mother. I thought that at last she had come to take me home.

So I ran, and I called to her. It took all the air in my lungs to yell above the moaning shadows… yet she flew right by. I didn't understand how she could not have seen me. But, I knew so long as she was within my sight I could not give up.

So I continued to run. I ran like I had never ran before; I soon realised I was running like an Avariel was never meant to. Muscles that had been mostly ignored throughout my development soon were stretched beyond their limits. As my legs became weak I wobbled and fell to the ground. Several times I pulled myself backup to continue my desperate chase, but each time she became further and further away. The fifth time I fell, my body simply hadn't the strength to stand again no matter how much I willed it to. I continued to watch my mother fly away, while all I could do was shed tears born of my frustration and despair.

Then the shadows took hold of me. They scratched and clawed and started dragging me under the earth. One last time I called to her, begging her to save me… but by now she was a solitary star again, forever out of my reach.

* * *

And so, to the annoyance of many and the amusement of some, I started the day with a scream. After the moment it took to adjust to this reality, I found that all I could do was tell everyone I was sorry. Imoen laughed, Jaheira didn't to seem to care very much, but Tarant gave me this look. It was the type of look I imagine most people would reserve for the moment just before they carry out an extremely bloody vengeange on the person who had killed their donkey; but it was actually normal for him. He suggested that I should eat and told everyone to be ready to move out.

Jaheira then said something about how glad she was to be outdoors, and in response Tarant walked away grumpily, muttering something about 'miles and miles of green'.

I tried to forget about the nightmare I'd had. To tell myself that it was just because of something I'd ate or me sleeping on my side, anything to avoid pondering it's meaning and having it affect my mood for the rest of the day. But, they come to me most nights, even if they are not usually so vivid.

Very soon our group was on the road towards De'Arnise keep. Nalia had sent a message informing us of problems with bandits and, grudgingly I expect, asked for Tarant's help. My leader is grumpy, rude, and does what he can to avoid actually becoming friends with anyone. Perhaps it's his distance from others that makes him so formidable. I know I could never kill as easily as he can, but I have come to appreciate that people like him are needed in this world, because people like me dream too much.

From listening to stories told by Quayle and other, far more eloquent, Bards, I'd almost been led to believe that forests are constantly teeming with bandits and monsters and that ancient dragons rest in every single cave. In fact, on a typical day nothing really happens. Wild animals have had millennia to learn that its best to keep their distance from people armed with spears and bows. Once, a whole tenday went by with out a single attack, before Jaheira finally admitted she was lost.

Anyway, it's usually just us and the trees and whatever tiny animals are waiting to feed on the scraps we drop them. I share Jaheira's earlier sentiment, much preferring the outdoors to the cramped and crowded cities. But, it is easy for your mind to wander out here, and mine constantly wandered back to that nightmare.

Even after all this time, I was homesick. Human cities are filled with millions of faces which to my eyes blur to become one visage of cold indifference. I wanted more than anything to feel the warmth and love of my family again. Just to speak to them… to know that they were unhurt. But they were out of reach.

I know, like I've honestly known since the day they took my wings, that I could spend my entire life reaching for that star… or, I could try my best to learn to live again, even if this world is different. And I've always known I would choose the later. Even if I could go home, I've already seen so much that I could never be content seeing the world so small as it looks to the Avariel.

So here I am. Just a strange girl in a strange world; not truly Avariel or even elven anymore. Certainly not a human or a gnome either. Perhaps I'll always feel like an outsider wherever I am. All I can do, and all I ever do, is try my best.

I didn't want to think about this anymore, as it was making me very unhappy, so I started looking for ways to distract myself. The others usually pass the time singing or talking to each other. If I sing, I make sure no one else can hear since I haven't much of a singing voice, and I can rarely think of much to contribute to a conversation so mostly I just listen.

I listen to Edwin enjoying his own company, as usual. At first, Edwin seemed like a very vain, shallow and cruel little man. He still does, but now I understand that like most people I've met, he ultimately just seeks the approval of his peers. To be loved. Unfortunately, since he doesn't think anyone can love him for who he is, he feels he has to make them.

_(written on side of page…)_

_I know that despite my efforts to hide it, you, Imoen, will likely read this and think that's 'corny'. To you I say, 'I don't care'. These are my private thoughts and nothing to do with you. Shouldn't you be memorising your spells rather than going through my things anyway?_

_(written underneath…)_

_Yeah, if it's so private than why'd you write it down?_

_(written underneath…)_

_For myself, I suppose. Usually my thoughts are such a mess so it helps to make them clearer. Please, just don't tell anyone what I write about them._

_(written underneath…)_

_As if I would. Liked the dream by the way. Bit angsty though… why can't you write something cheerful?_

_(written underneath…)_

_I do, sometimes. I'm just not usually feeling cheerful after having nightmares._

_(written underneath…)_

_Really? I guess it never occurred to me because you hide it so well…_

_(Aerie draws a little round face sticking its tongue out)_

_(Imoen draws one too, although her lines aren't as neat, then she writes...)_

_Hey! It's fun talking this way!_

Edwin hardly ever takes notice of me, unless he wants something, like a way to further boost his already gargantuan ego. Other than that, he seems to think I'm just some sort of maid Tarant picked up to keep everyone's armor polished. It feels like he's right sometimes… But, to be honest, I'm kind of glad to be beneath his notice.

And then there's Minsc… who wouldn't want a mighty seven berserker, and Boo, protecting them? Although, its hard to prove to people that I'm not weak and defenceless when he does. And, as far as conversation goes… Minsc always makes me smile when he speaks and promises to clean the outhouse of evil. But sometimes I feel I need a little more than my brave protector can provide. He doesn't appreciate the value of a beautiful sculpture in quite the same way I do, for example. In fact, last time we visited Nalia he used a priceless work of art as a club.

So, if I do want to talk, I usually end up talking to Imoen. I feel more comfortable talking than to anyone else. Even though I can't always follow her mode of speech, and even though she plays tricks on us she is always kind to everyone. She doesn't talk down to me like some of the others do. And she's funny. And brave… and I really can't say anything but nice things about her, because she might read this and get mad and beat me if I write the truth.

_(written on side of page…)_

_You forgot to mention 'beautiful', so you'd better not be planning on sitting down for the next year._

_(written underneath…)_

_Eek! I'm sorry… I can go back and change it!_

I listened to the others and talked to Imoen for a while. We were still a long way from Nalia's land, and halfway through the day my sack started to feel like it had been filled with stones and my legs started to ache. It was somewhat disheartening to look around to see that none of my companions appeared to have the same difficulties that I had. Even though I feel stronger than I did when I started adventuring, clearly I'm still a long way behind everyone else and my progress has been slow. I often feel that I have to try twice as hard as anyone in order to achieve less than a quarter of what they do. So I become frustrated at the pain in my legs, which doesn't go away, so I become even more frustrated.

I choose to say nothing at first, not wanting to slow the others down or be a burden on them. I try to persevere for a while longer, but I knew that if I didn't rest soon then I was likely going to collapse anyway and not be of any help at all if an enemy should find us. Luckily, before I needed to whine about it, Minsc came across what appeared to be an ideal place to make camp so we stopped with just a few hours of light left.

At last I could rest, or so I thought. Unfortunately Jaheira had other plans for me. Since there was still light, we were going to practice my combat skills. I was allowed just a little time to regain my strength, and to secretly pray to Baervar that Orcs or Giants would get to me before the druid did.

Jaheira is the person I find hardest to understand. Out of everyone, she is the person I most respect and look up to… sorry Immy. She is very strong, level-headed and beautiful. With her mane of tawny hair, she reminds of a lioness (um, even though I do know it's the male lions that have manes…). And every time I face her I feel like a helpless doe animal that knows it can't escape. That's certainly how I felt when I picked up my staff and went to wait for her in the clearing.

The training though, was necessary. Although I had tried hard and proven my competence with magic, spells ran out or it could be hard to cast them at all if you're too busy avoiding an opponents swings. Jaheira seems genuine in her desire to teach me enough so that if I should get into a fight like that, I won't be killed right away. But sadly, its only when we fight that we ever feel close to each other. At one time I wanted to impress her so much… but it didn't seem to matter how hard I tried or how well I did, it was never enough and she's often cold to me. I'm not sure whether it's because she expects too much from me – she must know I'm never going to be as strong as her? Or maybe, like Tarant, she prefers keeping people at a certain distance, perhaps because of the loss she suffered… still, there are times when she just makes me very angry.

And now she was late. As I waited, I couldn't help but be reminded of how I used to feel when I waited for my mother to come and punish me after I'd been caught misbehaving or flying too far from the city… I didn't want to remember that, so I cast my mind back to the deal I'd made with Imoen earlier.

She'd promised she would share her cookies with me if one of two conditions could be met; I had to either knock Jaheira off her feet or remain on mine for at least three minutes. I think Imoen knew it was a pretty safe bet.

When she finally did arrive and we started to spar, I was down in less than ten seconds, and down again in an even shorter amount of time. It felt like she was attacking me with even more intensity than usual. Jaheira is, of course, well aware that she is physically far more powerful than I am, so usually when we train she holds back a bit so as not to cause a serious injury. It didn't feel like she was today. My arms ached every time our staffs collided and then she hit across the face causing my nose to bleed.

Since it had been a long time since we'd argued about anything, I could only assume that Tarant was responsible for her mood. I'd overheard them arguing earlier… they were always arguing about something. Even so, I didn't see why I should be beat up because of it.

After knocking me down again, she lowered her guard a little and I saw an opening. With every ounce of strength I could muster, I thrust my staff upwards so that the end of it hit her hard in the shoulder. She staggered backwards a bit, and my heart stopped as I waited to see how she would react. Her face went through the phases of shock, then anger… but then, she smiled and nodded and my heart started beating again.

I was not, however, able to knock her down. And even though she went a little easier on me after that, I was never able to stay on my feet for three whole minutes. One and a half minutes I managed, which I considered a moral victory at least, but sadly it wasn't nearly enough to earn a cookie.

As we did fight however, I was reminded of why it was I wanted to be an adventurer. Despite how hard it was, despite the fact that caves and dungeons and any closed in space suffocates me… when I fought, I felt this exhilaration. As I tried to dodge and counter I felt my heart beat faster and my blood becoming quicker. It had been like this the first time I'd fought against Kalah. Despite how scared I was then, it had been the first time in many years that I'd actually felt I was alive, and not just a thing to be gawked at or pushed around. There were times in battle when I almost felt like I was flying again.

An elbow to the back of my head soon put an end to that.

* * *

After dark, I completed some chores made sure I'd memorised all my spells. When the moon was at its highest I prayed to Baervar that he would grant me the power I needed, and then I was ready to return to the campfire and fall asleep.

Before I could however, Imoen approached and offered me a cookie.

"But… I tried, but, I didn't do it," I told her, as if she didn't already know that.

"Doesn't matter," she said, grinning quirkily as usual, "That's why I like you."

"I don't understand…"

"You try your best, but you fail. There's something very human about that… and anyway, you will try again, won't ya?"

I nodded my consent and accepted the cookie. Even though I wasn't sure how much I liked being thought of as a valiant loser, it was better than being someone who never even tried to do anything. And perhaps, Imoen had made me feel that I had found a place where I belonged and a family. And even though I knew I would never stop thinking about my real family, at least now the time we spend apart is so much more bearable.

And that night I slept well, dreaming of friends and friendship, knowing that there would be a dawn.


End file.
